The Moons
by DarkScribe81
Summary: Austin and Ally Moon didn't have a storybook romance and the pressures of their relationship tore them apart, their marriage imploding in divorce. Leaving them behind, Austin created animosity and hostility between himself and his family. But, what will happen to the whole Moon family when an unexpected announcement has Austin back in the lives of Ally and their children?
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own, nor do I profit from, the Disney Channel program 'Austin & Ally' or the characters therein. They are simply used in the following story for my own entertainment. No copyright infringement intended.

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><p>The Moons<p>

Chapter One

She had awakened early purely out of habit.

Roused from a peaceful, placid sleep, she had moved quietly about her bedroom in order to not wake anyone else in the outsized beachfront mansion. Once she had showered and dressed, she had relocated to the kitchen downstairs at the back of the house per her normal routine. There she had leisurely taken the time to prepare a pot of coffee and pour herself a cup before she ventured out onto the deck behind the house. She had been able to watch the sunrise from the deck with her steaming cup of coffee braced between the palms of her hands; its warmth imbuing the skin of her hands through the ceramic as its rich aroma teased and tantalized her. The sun had painted the sky a veritable pallet of colors while she watched; the ocean lapping calmingly at the beach literally at her backdoor.

It had been a soothing, relaxing experience to sip her coffee while lounging on a deckchair, ensconced in a sense of peace and tranquility at the onset of a newborn day.

Now, with the day begun, she had relocated again back into the kitchen and into one of the chairs around the breakfast table. Her laptop sat open before her on the table, her coffee cup set beside it, a manuscript on its screen, and next to all of it was the worn, tattered leather bound journal that she had had and treasured since childhood. She raised her hands to the keyboard, ready to complete her current chapter and possibly add another to the narrative of the book she had begun to write in her spare time.

She wasn't able to type one word.

"Get the hell out of my room!"

_So much for peace and tranquility_, Allyson Dawson Moon told herself, her shoulders slumping at the interruption. She heard the sound of deep, masculine voices quarrelling loudly and calling out to her from the direction of the front staircase along with the sounds of two sets of heavy footsteps as their owners descended the wooden steps with haste. She shook her head and tried not to sigh too deeply. She paused in her work to turn her attention toward the doorway leading into the kitchen from the hallway, closing her journal in the process. Not unexpectedly, the owners of the voices stomped purposefully into the kitchen less than a moment later with no small amount of shoving between them. The owners, her adolescent teenage sons, headed directly toward her.

She waited patiently while they approached, looking between her two sons when they halted before her.

Mikah Andrew Moon was closest to his mother, scowling at his brother, and she was momentarily taken aback by how closely he resembled his father. Bare chested and broad shouldered, he towered before her, having inherited his father's height. Clad in a pair of torn, tattered dark wash denim jeans, he turned to look at her with his keen hazel eyes, their whiskey colored irises intently focused on her. He was lean and certainly well-built, his muscular physique blatantly evident to her eyes. Like his father, he had a mop head of tousled blond hair that was persistently resistant to every attempt to tame it. But, she knew too that he wore the disheveled mass deliberately messy, looking like he had rolled out of bed at the end of an adventurous bout of scandalous sex no more than a heartbeat before he had come in search of her.

When one considered that blond hair and his rippling muscle, in combination with his natural tan that appealingly bronzed his skin, and added in his irresistible personality, it was no wonder that he was widely popular at school. It made the girls swoon; he had told her once with no small amount of bravado, an impish smirk, and a mischievous wink. It had been another instance in which he had reminded her of his father.

She wondered for a moment when her small, adorable oldest baby boy had matured and developed into the adolescent man that now waited in front of her beside his brother, looking exasperated. It was like she had blinked and he had morphed into a now seventeen, almost eighteen, year-old man.

Beside him, Carter Matthew Moon looked between her and his brother with a deep scowl, his chocolate brown eyes that so resembled hers narrowed. He wasn't as tall as his brother, the top of his head only about an inch above Mikah's shoulder, but he was two years younger than his older brother as well. So, there was a chance that he would eventually catch his brother in height. Clad in a pair of plaid pajama pants, he was bare chested like Mikah, but not nearly as broad shouldered or muscularly developed. But, his skin was as tanned. Like her, he had a head of brown hair, though as with Mikah it was resistant to every attempt to tame it.

Behind both of them, leaning in the doorway that led into the kitchen with a look of exasperation directed at both her brothers, was their sister and Mikah's fraternal twin. Melanie Adeline Moon was accustomed to the almost daily clashes between her brothers, so she was no stranger to the raucous scene happening before her now. Her mother could see it in her deep hazel eyes and her expression that she was tired of them and the turmoil they created in everyone's lives too. She scowled perhaps more deeply than either of the boys, but her scowl was directed at both of them and not one of them in particular. It was in that instant that she realized that her daughter was one of those rare individuals on which even an expression of pure annoyance and frustration was absolutely breathtaking.

Ally returned her attention to her sons and settled back into her chair as she continued to wait for one of them to explain themselves, but her sons merely continued to scowl at one another. She raised an eyebrow at the pair before her and shook her head.

"Boys," she prompted both of them and each of them looked at her. "One of you, please start talking now."

"He stole my shirt!" and "He barged into my room!" were the simultaneously responses, and she sighed deeply.

"Boys!" she snapped. Both of them were silenced by her outburst and she looked between them before briefly closing her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. She counted backwards in her head from ten in order to allow her frustration to subside before she continued. "Now one at a time, please."

Neither of them said a word, each of them looking at the other.

"Mikah…"

"Of course you pick him," Carter muttered beneath his breath.

She paused only briefly because of the interruption. Carter was the most angst-ridden of her children and she had learned from experience not to take the bait when he made a comment like that. She breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly in an attempt to calm herself, choosing to ignore Carter's comment. "Mikah, please tell me what happened."

"He stole my shirt," Mikah said, turning his scowl back to Carter.

"I did not," Carter snarled venomously, wheeling on his heel toward his brother. "Why do you even care? You don't even wear it!"

"That doesn't mean you can take it!" Mikah snapped, turning on his brother and stepping toward him menacingly with clenched fists.

"It doesn't mean you can barge into my room to take it back either!"

"Enough!" The quarrel between the two teens was silenced by her outburst and both of them turned to look at their petite, diminutive mother. She was silent for a long moment as she collected herself before speaking. When she did speak, her voice was calm, controlled, and level. "Carter, even if Mikah isn't wearing something that doesn't mean you can take it. Please return the shirt to your brother and next time ask permission before you take something that isn't yours."

The brunette's eyes sharpened and he looked like he was about to retort, but instead he uncharacteristically stayed silent. Satisfied, she turned to her older son who had a triumphant smirk on his face as he eyed his brother.

"Mikah," the smirk vanished. He turned to look at her. "In this house, we respect each other. We don't barge into someone else's room without permission. Next time, knock before you enter."

"Yes, Mom," Mikah said solemnly, properly chastised.

She looked at Carter and noticed the look that burned in his eyes. "Whatever," he huffed and spun on his heel. They watched him march back into the hallway, shoving past his sister, and heard him climb the stairs, the sound of his bedroom door slamming shut resonating in the house a moment later. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Melanie roll her eyes and shake her blond head at her brother's antics before heading back upstairs herself. Turning back to her laptop, she closed her eyes and sighed, rubbing her temples as she leaned her elbows on the kitchen table. It wasn't more than a moment until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and turned her head to look up into the kind, compassionate eyes of her eldest son.

"It's okay, Mom," he said quietly in an obvious attempt to reassure her. "You're doing the best you can without Dad here."

"Thank you." She smiled and laid her hand on top of his larger hand that rested on her shoulder. She sat up and looked at him appraisingly, taking a closer look at her semi-dressed son. It was rather early for him to already have changed out of his pajamas, especially when all of her children had a tendency to lounge around the house as long as possible until she forced them to dress for the day whenever there wasn't something planned.

"Are you heading somewhere?" she asked.

He nodded his head. Removing his hand from her shoulder, he pulled out a chair next to her and dropped himself into it. His arm reached out and he snatched an apple from the bowl in center of the table. He bit into it smartly and munched on it.

"I'm heading into town for a while," he said around a mouthful of apple. He swallowed. "I'm meeting Miles, Rebecca, and rest of our friends at our usual spot to hang out until we leave later."

She nodded and decided to ignore his bad table manners like she had decided to ignore Carter's earlier outburst, though she grimaced at his mention of the name Rebecca. She wasn't the kind of parent that routinely voiced disparaging opinions about the people with whom their children associated without cause, but the handful of times she had had the pleasure of being around Rebecca and witnessed her interactions with Mikah it had been obvious to Ally that Rebecca was strongly infatuated with her son. Her behavior, which almost bordered on obsession on occasion, had looked to Ally like Rebecca had more than a normal crush on her son, something that had unsettled her immensely. Therefore, she was deeply concerned and troubled with the notion of the two of them spending time together, potentially even alone, as much as she trusted Mikah. But, her concern was eased at the mention that Mikah's best friend Miles and their other friends would be present as well. She had no doubt that their presence would rein in Rebecca and the desperate, deluded possessiveness she demonstrated toward Mikah, leaving her no need to worry.

Besides, she trusted her son.

"Well, please make sure you're not out to long," she said, turning back to her laptop on the kitchen table and intent on not dwelling on the matter. "We leave for the airport in a few hours and I don't want a delay, and I'll need your help cajoling your brother."

He nodded absently as he chewed on a second bite of his apple, looking completely oblivious to her words. She knew he was well aware of their plans to head out to the airport later to collect her old high school friends Patricia de la Rosa and Dezmond Wade along with their daughter, but evidently there was something else on his mind at the moment that had his attention.

"You know, your Aunt Trish texted me before they boarded," she continued mischievously and watched him out of the corner of her eye as he continued to stare out the nearby window, knowing that her next words were bound to elicit an undeniable reaction from her son. She suppressed the impulse to smile. "She said they're looking forward to seeing you… especially Tamara."

She noticed him look up at the mention of Tamara, stopping mid chew on his second bite of apple, and turned her head to the side to hide the smile that she could no longer suppress. While they weren't technically related to him or her other children, Trish and Dez had assumed the role of honorary aunt and uncle to her children respectively. But, it was their daughter Tamara that had come to unquestionably mean more to her eldest son than she was certain he was consciously prepared to admit. They weren't certain precisely when it would happen, as both of their children were blinded to the obvious mutual attraction between them by the closeness of their friendship, but she and Trish had decided that something more intimate than friendship was inevitable between Mikah and Tamara.

It was a mother's intuition.

Neither of them had chosen to voice that opinion to either of their children nor were they aware of whether or not Mikah and Tamara had realized or acted on the unspoken attraction between them. Instead, they contented themselves to the occasional knowing look whenever they observed the two of them together by themselves and the way they behaved toward one another. But, Ally knew that, unlike Rebecca, Tamara was someone that she could approve of having a relationship with her eldest son.

"Tamara," he said quietly once he had swallowed, but in a tone of voice that rose an octave. He stared at the half-eaten apple in his hand with a distant expression. She could almost see the wheels turning inside his head while a small smile appeared on his lips.

"Yes," she said. She decided to tease her son. "From what I understand, she's excited to see you."

"I bet she is," she heard him murmur. She could see the smile on his lips turn into a devilish smirk. But then he nodded his head, pushed back his seat, stood, and headed for the door leading out of the kitchen, apple in hand as he headed out into the hallway. "I'll be back as soon as we're done."

"Good," she called out behind him.

But, he was already out of the kitchen and headed back upstairs to his room to finish dressing so he could head into town. She could hear him taking the steps two at a time. Shaking her head and smiling, she raised her hands so they were poised above the keyboard of her laptop. She hoped she could complete her current chapter at least before it was time to leave for the airport. But no sooner than had she begun to type a single word than was she interrupted by the loud ruckus of rock music coming from upstairs on the other side of Carter's closed bedroom door. She rolled her eyes before she hung her head in her hands. With a resigned sigh, she saved her manuscript. Closing her laptop, she collected it along with her journal and coffee cup. She would continue her manuscript in her study, she decided as she headed out of the kitchen. At least there she could hopefully continue its story without further interruption.

The story of two one-time lovers… named Ally… and Austin…

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	2. Chapter 2

I do not own, nor do I profit from, the Disney Channel program 'Austin & Ally' or the characters therein. They are simply used in the following story for my own entertainment. No copyright infringement intended.

**Warning**: The following chapter contains descriptions of a sexual act committed by one character on another that may be unsettling to readers. Reader discretion is advised.

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><p>The Moons<p>

Chapter Two

He hadn't wanted to lie to her.

But, he hadn't had a choice. He knew that his mother never would have approved of his intended plans for the rest of the morning or that it possibly meant him being intimately alone with Rebecca. Not that he would have unwisely revealed that particular detail to her. Therefore, instead Mikah told her a lie, something he had rarely done in the past but that was becoming increasingly common of him the more time he had spent with Rebecca in the past two months. So, he told her he was meeting a group of people instead of only Rebecca. It had been a small, innocently insignificant lie. It wasn't like she would have been able to stop him had he told her otherwise, but she would have been suspicious about his plans because they included someone she didn't trust and she wouldn't have hesitated to make him aware of that as she questioned him endlessly before he could leave the house.

Her displeasure would have been plainly written in her eyes and etched in her expression the entire time too. He had seen a hint of it out of the corner of his eye the minute he had mentioned Rebecca's name in passing while he ate the apple he had snatched from the bowl in the middle of the table. He suspected that she didn't even consciously notice it, but her reaction had been immediate: the instant, barely concealed look of concern, the pointedly narrowed eyes that held sharp suspicion and the sudden tension in her posture that conveyed her mistrust.

He tried not to discernibly wince at her reaction, a stab of remorse coiling in his stomach. He knew that her reaction wasn't directed at him personally and that it was motivated by her concern for him as her child, her natural maternal instinct to protect her children because she loved them, and knowing that made it hurt even more having to lie to her. He was instantly ashamed of himself and embarrassed that he had intentionally deceived her, but he nonetheless tried to set his remorse aside as best he could while he concentrated on looking anywhere but at her. It wasn't easy as she sat beside him at the breakfast table, her pensive stare directed directly at him.

Fortunately, the intensity of that stare eased quickly and she turned back to her laptop, her posture relaxing as she evidently accepted his lie. She was speaking to him, but he hardly noticed, responding occasionally with an absent nod. The apple in his hand no longer held his interest, now decidedly tasteless to him as his appetite had vanished, but he continued to eat it in spite of that. He needed the distraction so that he wouldn't dwell on the fact that he had betrayed his mother's trust and that he hated that he had done it. It wasn't more than an instant however before the apple was no longer an adequate distraction, his remorse pressing in upon him, and he had begun to search his mind for an excuse to escape his mother's presence before his conscious compelled him to come clean to her about his lie.

That was until his mother derailed his search with the mention of a single name.

Tamara.

He hadn't been able to conceal his reaction at her mention of that name. It was instantly recognizable to him and she immediately had his undivided attention, surprising him into looking at her with intense interest. He halted mid chew on his second bite of apple and stared at her with riveted, newly attentive eyes. He vaguely registered her turning her head quickly in the opposite direction to hide the pleased smile she had in response to his reaction, but he hardly spared a moment being annoyed with her amusement at his reaction. He was too occupied processing the shocking revelation that Tamara was indeed due to arrive later that afternoon with her parents and that he hadn't remembered. He silently chastised himself for it, realizing that it had happened most likely because he had been preoccupied with his plans with Rebecca.

He wondered when Rebecca had come to mean more to him than Tamara, but he quickly realized that she hadn't come to mean more to him.

While not technically related to him or his siblings, Tamara had been raised as much by his parents until their divorce as he, Melanie, and Carter had been raised by hers, making her more like family to him than anything else. But, more recently, he had noticed that she had begun to mean more to him than he had believed and that he cared for her deeply as more than even that, a realization that he wasn't prepared to openly admit. He had never acted on his mounting interest in her because he had been scared to threaten the extremely close bond that already existed between them. Instead, he suffered in silence, keeping his distance in hopes that it would lessen the pining in his heart and tried to pretend that his interest in her was an immature crush. It had proven initially harder than he had expected as he had been constantly around her, unable to escape her at times. But recently, it had been easier because she had been living in Los Angeles for the past couple of months with her parents while his Uncle Dez directed a new movie, leaving him behind in Miami with the rest of his family.

He had hoped the separation would prove beneficial for the both of them. It was the summer and both of them would have an opportunity to meet and socialize with other people without the other around, and he had assumed that his interest in her would wane and his affection for her would prove itself the harmless, childish crush that he pretended them to be. At least, that was what he told himself. But, the pang of longing that sprang into existence and ached inside his chest now at merely the mention of her name told him that the separation between them hadn't diminished his affections for her.

He had discovered that there was a void in his heart without her near him. He had hid it well, but he had been miserably lonely and vulnerable without her, that had made him weak, and in his weakness he had blindly turned to Rebecca and her charms to ease the pain of Tamara's absence.

Now, Tamara would soon return and he had to admit that that excited him.

"Tamara," he said quietly once he had swallowed the apple in his mouth, wincing inwardly when his voice raised an octave unintentionally and betrayed his excitement. Regardless, he stared at the half-eaten apple in his hand with a small smile on his lips, but his eyes and expression were distant.

"Yes," his mother said from beside him with a teasing tone in her voice, pulling him out of his reflections. "From what I understand, she's excited to see you."

"I bet she is," he murmured, his smile widening into a devilish smirk. His earlier trepidation was now replaced with a rising tide of unreserved anticipation to see Tamara. But, that anticipation was almost immediately tempered when he remembered the reason he had lied to his mother earlier. A surreptitious check of the clock on the stove that went unnoticed by his mother told him that he was supposed to meet Rebecca soon and he wasn't completely ready, though he realized now that the return of Tamara to Miami meant he had to rethinking his intended plans with Rebecca. He nodded his head resolutely nevertheless, determined to at least meet with her as he had planned but end the affair he had begun with her. He pushed back his seat, stood, and headed for the door leading out of the kitchen, his half-eaten apple in hand as he headed out into the hallway. "I'll be back as soon as were done."

"Good," he heard his mother call out behind him, but he hardly heard her as he walked the length of the hallway and climbed the stairs back to his room with a purpose in his step.

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><p>The distinct throaty roar of classic American muscle and the raucous howl of the wind whipping his blond mop about his head resonated in his ears as the scenery blurred around him. The well tread sole of his Converse pressing the pedal to the floorboard and pushing the needle well passed seventy on the odometer; Mikah couldn't help the smirk that stretched across his lips as he held the wheel in his hands and spun it to one side, the lovingly restored Ford Mustang he drove snapping into a sharp turn.<p>

The car barreled into the turn with the brutish power of her kind, a rush of black body and white racing stripes passing in a blur of motion. The street ahead of him now was mostly vacant of other vehicles and he revved the car, pushing the red needle higher.

He wouldn't have normally pushed his beloved car on the surface streets, but he had a narrow window between the present and the time he was expected back at the house, and he had no time to lose. Not that he was too concerned about not being able to make it back to the house on time. He had made the blinding run between the walled estate his Uncle Dez had dubbed "the Moon compound" and Rebecca's more modest house before on several occasions, and he knew he could make it back in record time.

He slowed sharply as he approached the next intersection, easing his foot from the pedal so he traveled at a much more reasonable speed into the narrower streets of Rebecca's neighborhood. The throaty roar of his car diminished to a much more subdued rumble as he slowly drove along the streets lined with picturesque single family houses, heading toward one of them in particular. The curb and driveway outside the modest house were vacant when he pulled to a stop before it, but he had expected that. Rebecca was meticulously cautious to schedule their rendezvouses for when she knew her house was empty expect for them, leaving them no need to worry about possible interruptions.

He put the car in park and stopped the engine, pulling the key from the ignition. He unfastened his seatbelt, but hesitated to open the car door and climb out. For a minute, he sat back in the driver's seat with his hands in his lap and debated whether to turn back now and head to his house without so much as stepping out of his car. He knew now he was here to end his liaison with Rebecca and not merely another scandalous rendezvous between them as secret lovers as he had planned. He closed his eyes and sighed, knowing that she wouldn't take the news well. They hadn't been dating, at least to him. He was ashamed to admit, but he was even more certain of it now sitting in his car outside her house that she had been a distraction to him. He had used her to occupy himself and cope with his loneliness while Tamara had been out in California.

He was a weak person that had succumbed to temptation.

Now, with Tamara about to return, he had to end whatever it was between him and Rebecca, but he owed it to Rebecca to explain that to her and it was the type of man he was that he believed she deserved to hear it in person instead of another way. So, he breathed in deeply, exhaled slowly, reopened his eyes, and reached for the door handle, pulling it before pushing the door open. He stepped out onto the asphalt and locked the door, closing it behind him. Pocketing his keys, he walked around the backend of his car and toward the house, pausing on the doorstep. He hesitated to ring the bell, but in the end he pushed it.

He waited anxiously, shoving his hands into his back pockets nervously. It wasn't more than a minute before he heard the door being unlocked and the handle turned, and his attention was immediately riveted on the person standing on the other side of the now open door.

Rebecca Ames stood with her hip to one side against the doorframe, one arm outstretched with its hand braced above her head, poised in a manner he suspected was meant to look both nonchalant and seductive to the eye. Clad in an oversized solid black t-shirt, one that he recognized as _his_ t-shirt, she looked at him with sultry emerald eyes and a brilliantly pleasing smile. She was lean and petite, her blond head topping out beneath his chin. She was appealingly curvy everywhere that it mattered, though much of her curves that he knew she possessed were hidden by the oversized t-shirt. Her skin that he could see was smooth and tanned to a beautiful bronze, every exposed inch of it below the hem of the oversized t-shirt leading him to wonder whether the shirt was the only clothing she wore.

"Why, Mikah, nice of you to stop by," she purred, making it sound like his arrival at her door was an unexpected occurrence.

"Ah, yeah," he said nervously, pulling one hand from a back pocket to rub the back of his neck. It was a nervous habit that his mother said he inherited from his father.

She stepped back and motioned inside the house. "Won't you come in?"

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and debated whether he should or not before he nodded, stepping past her into the house. Better to tell her in private than have her shouting at him on her doorstep where her neighbors would undoubtedly take notice. He immediately heard the door shut behind him and the lock turn. He didn't have time to turn around before her arms were around his waist from behind. She laid her head against his back and pulled him close.

"I'm so happy you're here," she murmured. He could sense the smirk on her lips. "You have no idea how much I want your damn mouth on me… and I don't mean on my lips." He heard her laugh. "Well, at least the lips I have _above_ my waist."

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the reason he had come to her house. "Rebecca, we need to talk…"

"Later," she said, splaying her hands open on his stomach and sliding them southward. Despite himself, he tensed as her touch and was intimately aware that she was enticing a response from him already. His jeans were now tighter than before and he bowed his head, ashamed that his body responded so easily to her. The hand nearest his crotch sunk to the buckle of his black studded belt and he heard the distinct sound of leather being pulled loose.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice sounding surprisingly hoarse.

His breath hitched in his throat as his belt released and her hand moved to the button of his jeans. She nimbly unbuttoned it with practiced ease and moved on to the zipper without pause.

"Unwrapping my favorite toy," was her answer when she pulled the zipper open and, before he can stop her, slid her hand was inside his jeans, palming him through the black briefs that she insisted he wear whenever he was with her.

"Rebecca, please," he moaned. "We need… to talk…"

"I said later, Mikah," she scolded sternly. "We can talk once you've stripped naked and taken care of my needs." She slid her hand _inside_ of his briefs and closed it around his solid length, applying deep even strokes. "In fact… take off your shirt… _now_."

But, he doesn't move, doesn't attempt to unbutton his plaid shirt in order to remove it. Despite her hand inside his underwear, he doesn't obey her order. "No."

Her hand halted inside his briefs and she withdrew her head from where it lay on his back. He could sense her eyes narrow without having to look and when she spoke her words were cold, her tone hard.

"What did you say?"

"I said," he told her, at last moving his hands. But, instead of removing his shirt as she had ordered, he closed one hand around her forearm and, not completely without reluctance, pulled her hand from his briefs. He stepped out of her arms and turned to her, not looking at her as he zipped his jeans. "No. I said no."

She took a half step closer to him. "You don't say no to me, Mikah Moon. I _own_ you. You're _mine_."

"No, Rebecca, you don't own me. You never did," he told her, fastening his belt once he had buttoned his jeans. "Look… this," he waved a hand between them. "It shouldn't have happened. It was a mistake."

"A _mistake_?" she hissed. "You've been fooling around with me for _two months_ and now you decide it was a _mistake_?"

"Yes," he said, not able to look at her. "I know that sounds bad. Look, I'm sorry, but it shouldn't have happened. It was wrong of me to…"

"Get the fuck out of my house!" she snarled at him, her expression contorted with indignation as she seethed with rage.

He didn't hesitate to step around her, unlock the door, and leave her behind him.

**Please remember to review**


	3. Chapter 3

I do not own, nor do I profit from, the Disney Channel program 'Austin & Ally' or the characters therein. They are simply used in the following story for my own entertainment. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

><p>The Moons<p>

Chapter Three

It had been a while since he had been in Miami.

Now, seated in the aisle seat in the second row of business class on an airborne plane somewhere between California and Florida, Austin Moon was infinitely aware that every passing second was taking him inexorably closer to being there. He tried to relax despite the nervous energy that had him practically bouncing anxiously in his seat and looking intently around the cabin. He reclined as best he could into his seat, his muscles tight with tense apprehension. He hadn't been back to Miami for more than an occasional stop while on tour or to put in an appearance at an event in almost six years and, though he had voluntarily agreed to return, he couldn't help but believe it had been a mistake for him to return now. He settled his head on the headrest and closed his eyes, clasping his hands in his lap to keep them still.

There were reasons he hadn't returned to Miami more than he had.

Their names were Ally, Mikah, Melanie, and Carter.

He sighed severely in resignation, slumping more deeply into his seat and realizing that those four names were the root cause of his apprehension. It wasn't because he feared them. In fact, he loved them. He couldn't stop loving them and never had. Ally had been his one and only regardless of the spectacular and public collapse of their marriage and his children were the center of his world, though he hadn't seen any of them in person in six years. Instead, he had been out in Los Angeles or somewhere else in the world, because he was Austin Moon, the renowned international celebrity sensation. But, he supposed a more accurate description would have been Austin Moon, the man that naively put his career ahead of his marriage and his children.

He hadn't been out of their lives completely in that time. He had handed Ally the house in their divorce, he hadn't contested her having custody of their children because he knew she was the better parent, he sent her a child support check for each of them every month, sent presents on their birthdays and at Christmas, and routinely made deposits in their college accounts. He had even quietly directed opportunities to collaborate with other artists in Ally's direction or recommended her when he heard of a label that needed a world class songwriter.

No one could say he was a deadbeat father or ex-husband.

In return, he had received a steady stream of pictures and videos of the children from Ally. He received the occasional email or text from the children themselves too, though he suspected those were sent at Ally's insistence and mainly were quick thank you notes for the presents he sent them.

But, he did love those notes.

He was startled from his reflections by a hand on his forearm and he snapped his eyes opened, turning his head to look at the person sitting in the seat next to him. She was a young raven haired beauty with brilliant blue eyes, smooth skin that was nicely tanned, and an appealing body. She wore a rather tight, but modest blue short-sleeve top that clung to the curves of her upper body and a pair of comfortable looking sweatpants, the cord of one earbud dangling from her ear. She looked absolutely relaxed reclined in her seat, but her eyes were alive with concern as she contemplated him.

"You're thinking about them, aren't you, Uncle Austin?"

He chuckled and nodded in response to his niece's perceptive question, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Yes, Tamara, I'm thinking about them."

She considered his words in silence for a moment, pulling the earbud out of her ear and coiling the headphone cord in her hands. "You're worried that agreeing to Mom and Dad's invitation to return with us was a mistake. You're worried that Aunt Ally, Mikah, Melanie, and Carter won't react well to seeing you."

"You're very observant," he told her, adding a teasing note to his voice.

She smiled and quickly looked around their seats before she leaned in conspiratorially, dropping her voice to a near whisper. "Please don't tell my Mom and Dad, but I learned it from Aunt Ally."

Austin snorted and laughed before leaned in close to her, but directed a quick look across the aisle to where the short Latina and tall, lanky redhead in question were vehemently in the middle of a heated argument that had attracted the attention of those around them. He shook his head. He doubted that either of them would overhear him and Tamara. He was convinced that his two best friends had raised bickering to an art form in the almost thirty years they had known each other.

He turned back to their daughter and inclined his head toward her parents, rolling his eyes. "I promise I won't tell them."

"Good," she said, settling back into her seat. She spent a moment observing her parents across the aisle with an expression of exasperation. But, eventually her expression turned serious and she turned back to their conversation. "But, I don't think you shouldn't worry too much, Uncle Austin. I can't speak for Melanie or Carter, but I think Mikah will surprise you."

"I don't know about that…"

"No, Uncle Austin," she interrupted him before he could continue. Her voice was adamant. "I'm certain that Mikah will surprise you. You'll see."

"And you know that because?"

She inhaled sharply and slowly exhaled while her expression and eyes were momentarily distant, an odd warm smile appearing on her lips. He heard her chuckle quietly to herself, evidently remembering something that amused her. "I know it because I know Mikah better than most other people. He and I have a… unique relationship."

He raised an eyebrow curiously at her comment. Her words made him want to ask her what she meant by "unique relationship", but he decided that it probably wasn't an appropriate time and changed the subject instead, not certain that she would be open to discussing her unique relationship with his son in more detail. He again looked to the Latina and the redhead seated across from them before he turned back to their daughter. There was a question that had been on his mind since Dez had appeared at his door and convinced him to accompany his family back to Miami. "You wouldn't happen to know why your Dad asked me to head back to Miami with you, do you?"

"Not a clue, Uncle Austin," she said, shaking her head. She sounded completely sincere, too. "Not a clue."

* * *

><p>It had only been an hour, he noted.<p>

Pulling to one side of the circular drive outside his house at the end of the entry road leading onto the property, Mikah put his car into park and stopped the engine. He made no move to unfasten his seatbelt or exit the vehicle, incredulous that no more than an hour has elapsed since he had begun his excursion to Rebecca's house. Leaning back in his seat, he stared blankly at the house through the windshield as he contemplated the events of the hour. He had spent the entire ride back to the house mulling those same events, knowing he should have handled the incident much better than he had. He continued to believe that ending his affair with Rebecca, a decision motivated by the expected return of Tamara, had been the correct choice.

But, he hadn't expected the vehemence, the intensity of Rebecca's reaction. He had naturally expected her to respond with a bitter, boiling combination of outrage, antipathy, hatred, and resentment at being humiliated and used. He hadn't expected her to be so enraged, however. He had seen it in her hard, loathing eyes when he had told her that their affair had been a mistake. Her expression had twisted into an abnormal mask of incensed indignation. She had stalked toward him, seething and snarling for him to leave her house. In less than a minute, she had transformed from the beautiful, but possessive blonde that had used her hands and mouth in the past two months to tempt his body with inconceivably intimate pleasures. Instead, she had changed into a vicious, irate beast almost seemingly mad with the desire to murder him.

He wasn't ashamed to admit that he had been scared; that he had ran to escape her. He had never seen someone that riled. It had sent shivers of dread running along his spine and he wasn't ordinarily someone that was easily unnerved. He had heard the rumors about her and had known that she wasn't the most normal person out there, but he had never suspected that she could turn like that in an instant. She had looked almost unstable. It caused him to think of the times he had kissed her, the times he had laid naked or almost naked with her, the times he had allowed her to touch him intimately, and he wondered what could have happened had he angered her.

He shuddered in his seat.

He shook his head to clear it of those thoughts. He decided that he shouldn't dwell on the subject and that he should at last head inside. He reached for the clasp of his seatbelt, releasing it. Opening the car door so he could climb out, he locked and closed it behind him. He approached the house with his keys in his hand, ready to unlock the front door when he reached it. But, it never had the chance to open the door.

He reached the door when it swung open before him and someone stepped out, almost colliding with him in the process. Clad in a maroon beanie, white short-sleeve t-shirt, knee length khaki shorts, and black Converse, Carter strode purposefully out of the house, heading directly toward the side of the property that had a small uneven path leading onto the beach. Mikah narrowed his eyes in suspicion as the shorter, younger Moon brushed past him without a word, the deep scowl that was his customary expression plastered on his face. Mikah watched him march toward the path to the beach with a determined stride.

"Where are you headed?"

"Out," Carter snapped shortly, his tone laced with bitter attitude.

He didn't look back at Mikah as he said it. Instead, he reached the small staircase that led to the path, hustled down it, and walked along the path to the sand. All Mikah could do was watch him leave unless he wanted to chase after him and he didn't have the strength to impede the brunette's departure. So, he allowed his brother to leave and turned back to the house, stepping through the front door that Carter had left standing wide open. Shaking his head, he wondered whether their mother was aware of Carter's departure from the house. He suspected that she wasn't. With their planned trek to the airport that afternoon, she had been adamant that she expected all of them to stay close to the house so they could accompany her. He had only been able to convince her to allow him to leave earlier because he had promised that he would return before they were due to head to the airport.

Keeping that in mind, he decided to check to see whether or not she aware that her youngest child was now absent and out of the house.

Closing the door, he locked it and headed along the hallway before him toward the back of the house in search of his mother. Ally Dawson Moon was a creature of habit and it was her routine to retire to the privacy of her study in the middle of the day, so he bypassed the kitchen where she spent her early hours and proceeded to the door of her study. He halted before the door, remembered the reprimand he had received from her earlier, and raised his clenched hand, rapping twice with his knuckles on the wooden door and waited for permission to enter.

"Come in," he heard his mother call. Taking the doorknob in hand, he opened the door and stepped inside his mother's study. He immediately paused when she wasn't seated behind her desk like he had expected her and searched the room for the petite woman. In the course of his search, he was reminded that his mother was the nerdy, bookworm type as three of the walls in the room were lined with several tall bookshelves lined with numerous volumes. The fourth wall, inset with exquisite French doors that led out on the deck that wrapped around the sides of the house, stood behind her desk, sunlight spilling in through the windows.

Meanwhile, the center of the room was dominated by a polished grand piano and seeing it made him remember when his mother had taken the time to teach each of her children to play it. He hadn't played in a while himself, preferring the guitar to piano, but he could almost hear the instrument beckon to him.

He shook his head and continued his search for his mother. It was at one of the bookshelves that he located her, standing on a short step stool and attempting to reach a book from the top shelf well above her head. He could see her arm stretched well above her while she stood on her toes on the stool.

"Mom," he said, walking briskly to her side from the door, leaving it standing open, and effortlessly retrieving the book for her. She lowered herself to the soles of her feet on top of the stool as he handed her the book. He looked at her pointedly. "You could have asked me."

"You weren't here until now," she said, looking at him pointedly. "And I needed the book. Besides, I've been climbing around these bookshelves since before you were out of diapers. I haven't killed myself yet."

"Well, I would rather not see you do it on my watch," he told her. "I would prefer you ask."

"Brilliance waits for no one," she said, hopping to the floor and moving to her desk. She set the book open beside her laptop, apparently knowing exactly which page she needed, and started to check her most recent work against the information it contained. Her next words were spoken without looking up, but they nearly sent him into a panic. "So, how was town?"

He hesitated, uncertain of how to answer her question. "Good," he said simply.

She paused in her work to look at him. His hesitation had undoubtedly caught her interest and she raised one sculpted eyebrow in question. He looked at her and smiled. He could tell that she suspected he was holding back on her, but she made to move to ask him about it. Instead, she returned to her work.

"I'm almost at a point where I think I can take a break," she said, not looking up from her work. "How about we talk more then?"

"Sure," he said, not wanting to discuss the events of the past hour with his mother at all. But, he put a smile on his face. "Would you like me to make lunch?"

"That'd be lovely," she said absently, having returned to her work.

He turned to leave her to her work, but remembered his brief encounter with Carter and turned back to her. "Ah, Mom," he said.

She paused in her work and looked at him. "Yes, Mikah, was there something else?"

"Yeah, Mom," he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Ah, do you know where Carter was headed?"

"Carter?" she asked, looking taken aback by his mention of his brother. "Isn't he in his room?"

Mikah shook his head. "Ah, no, Mom. He isn't. He left when I came in."

"I asked him to stay in the house because we had to leave for the airport later," he heard her murmur and it was obvious to him that she was talking more to herself than to him. She laid her head in her hands for a moment and rubbed her temples. "Did you see where he was headed?"

"Out onto the beach, I believe."

"Did he have his phone with him?"

"I don't know."

He looked at her sadly, seeing her exasperation in her expression, and he tried to remember a time when she hadn't looked so overwhelmed when dealing with his brother. She loved him like she loved each of her children, unconditionally, but Carter had been the child that had taken the divorce and departure of their father the hardest. While Mikah had had to shoulder the burden of being the man of the house, leaving no time to dwell on the actions or motivations of their father, Carter had had nothing but time to dwell on them. The result had been a distinct change in his personality. Now, he never smiled, he was bitter and sullen, constantly moody and irritable, lashing out at everyone around him without notice.

He waited patiently until she raised her head to look at him and inhaled deeply. "Thank you, Mikah. I'll have to talk to him later. For now, why don't you prepare us some lunch?"

He made no move to remind her that he had proposed the same thing only minutes before and merely nodded his head, turning to leave the study. He closed the door behind him with a sigh and walked toward the kitchen, his mind preoccupied now with added concern for his brother on top of the burdens he already carried.

* * *

><p>It was almost noon when he stepped before the mirror.<p>

It hung on the outside of his closet door and he remained motionless for a long moment before it, contemplating himself in the mirror. Carter discarded the damp towel he had used to dry his freshly showered body and noted his different features. Chestnut brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, tender lips, smooth skin tanned a tarnished bronze, lean build with somewhat pronounced pectorals, indistinct traces of emerging abs, and developing biceps and triceps. He was slender and trim, his stomach taunt with a noticeable trail of hairs leading from beneath his navel to the waistband of his multihued Calvin Klein trunk briefs. He knew that between them, his brother Mikah had the more prominent muscles, but he couldn't look at himself in the mirror without thinking he was destine to have as pronounced a physique as his brother.

Like the rest of the Moon men, puberty had been more than kind to him, leaving him with ridiculously sculpted model worthy looks. But yet he was almost sixteen and he had never attracted the kind of attention that Mikah received. He persistently languished in the shadow of his older brother, unseen and unnoticed, and invisible to everyone around them. Granted, he was the brother of an undeniable blond Adonis, but in his opinion he was as appealing as his brother. He deserved the same attention that Mikah received. He deserved to have someone take notice of him, to want him, and to love him. But, he was repeatedly ignored, tossed aside by everyone like a piece of trash. Frustrated, his hands clenched at his sides and he scowled deeply at the mirror, his eyes cold and hard.

Turning from the mirror, he opened the closet door, reached inside, and selected a short-sleeve maroon t-shirt and pulled it on to his upper body. He walked to his bed and pulled on the knee length khaki shorts that lay there before he sank onto the mattress. He pulled on a pair of no-show socks along with his Converse. Standing, he walked to his dresser and scooped the ring that had his house key and bedroom door key into his hand, sliding it into the front pocket of his shorts. Next, he snatched the maroon beanie that had lay beside it and situated it on his head so that almost all of his hair was concealed. Grabbing his wallet and phone from on top of the dresser, he headed toward his door, unlocking it as he took hold of the doorknob. Checking to see that he had relocked the doorknob before closing it behind him, he proceeded along the upstairs hallway to the landing at the top of the stairs.

He descended the stairs quickly, eyes and ears on the alert for his mother or his sister. She had asked him to stay at the house because they were supposed to ride with her to collect his Aunt Trish, Uncle Dez, and their daughter Tamara at the airport later. But, he had no desire to stay trapped inside the house that was more prison than home to him. Fortunately, he made it to the bottom of the stairs without incident and was out the door within moments. A sense of exhilaration filled him as he escaped the house and strode purposefully out the door.

That exhilaration was short-lived.

It sank almost immediately into the bottom of his stomach as his eyes landed on the one other person he hadn't wanted to encounter as he made his escape. Mikah looked at him with narrowed, suspicious eyes as he brushed past him, not slowing his pace as he hurried toward the side of their property and the path leading to the beach.

"Where are you headed?" he heard Mikah asked behind him.

"Out," he responded shortly, his tone laced the bitter attitude. He tried not to roll his eyes as he headed toward the path and the beach beyond it. He reached the small staircase leading to the path and hustled down it, walking briskly toward the sand. He didn't look back once to see whether Mikah was behind him. He could sense his brother's eyes on him, but when he didn't try to catch him he decided that Mikah was content to allow him to leave. He knew that Mikah would doubtlessly tell their mother immediately that he had left, but neither of them would know where he was headed.

He didn't know himself.

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